


bullseye you the dot to me

by montecarlos



Category: GP2 Series RPF
Genre: Kissing, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: “I’m leaving,”The words cut through him like a knife - they ache, they hurt. It was supposed to be them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I wrote and pulled out of the dark, deep vestiges of my mind, I wrote it whilst fighting away some bad news and some even badder depression, so I'm interested to know how my writing has turned out. Thanks to the usual folks for dragging me through it. Inspired by Zayn's Mind of Mine and by Mitch leaving GP2. Enjoy! :)

“I’m leaving,”   
  
The words cut through him like a knife - they ache, they hurt. It was supposed to be them, be them on the top step. They were supposed to be like Mark and Fernando - their hands clasping over waistlines, the touches that seemed to linger a fraction more than usual. He feels his mouth go dry at the words. He never expected this - he never expected for them to go their separate ways. They were supposed to be together. He remembers the promise that they had made that night in New Zealand, the sweat clinging to their faces as they had looked into each other’s eyes. The promises had fallen from chapped lips, Alex had pushed back the hair from Mitch’s forehead, brown eyes locking on brown. It seems like a lifetime ago now - so much has happened since then - lost amongst comments on Instagram, amongst brushes against skin, amongst whispered promises that nothing would change.    
  
And for years, it didn’t. Alex remembers Mitch getting into GP2 first, remembers his name suddenly been thrown around in the racing paddocks, remembers swallowing the jealousy that had bubbled up inside him. But he’d gone on to win the GP3 title and the champagne had tasted incredible that evening. Mitch had knocked on the door of his hotel room that night and they had fallen into the sheets together, hair mussing with sweat as Alex had given up his virginity. He had given up more than just that though - he’d given up his heart. The minutes they spent together seemed to melt into each other, their lives seem to smash together. Alex remembers Mitch wearing one of his jumpers, having a pair of obnoxious shoes that he doesn’t remember belonging to him - they’re certainly not his size for starters - but that was  _ them _ . Mitch had crept into his life without him realising and he was there to stay.    
  
But it couldn’t stay that way forever - they couldn’t stay locked in those lower divisions together forever. They got closer the next year, both in GP2 - Alex watches Mitch float around the paddock, an old soul, smile curving over his lips. They still fall in bed together, Alex trying not to wake Pierre who is sleeping next door with his groans, trying not to scream as Mitch’s fingernails dig deeper into his skin, leaving half moon crescents. Mitch leaves other marks, not only on his skin and on his collarbones, but on his life as well. Alex finds himself drawn deeper and deeper into love with the smaller young man, thinking about Mitch as he lays in between rumpled, cold sheets. The Kiwi is an enigma, to say the least. Alex finds himself thinking about Mitch at the most inopportune moments - usually in the cockpit of his car or during race feedback meetings - and he stifles a groan when he feels his trousers suddenly tighten. He thinks about Mitch’s mouth on his cock, about Mitch’s eyes heavy and lidded gazing at him, thinks about the dark red mark he left on the golden skin of the Kiwi’s collarbone. Alex is proud of the marks he leaves on Mitch’s skin, he feels like they leave more of a claim on the other driver. He’s seen how Artem looks at Mitch, he knows how easy it is to fall in love with Mitch. But the claim fades and so do Mitch’s prospects in Formula One. It hurts Alex to watch Mitch cast aside in such a way, to watch the hope slowly leave the dark brown eyes that he loves so much. He knows it hurts Mitch too, to see his dream in tatters and Alex’s flourishing, Claire Williams’s eyes on him as he signs the contract.  
  
He doesn’t tell Mitch about it. He only finds out when the photographs are released, the photographs of him and Felipe in the white overalls. Mitch is angry - angrier than Alex has ever seen him - spittle flies from his mouth and his eyes flash darker than usual as he shoves Alex against the wall.    
  
“You didn’t tell me,” are the only words that leave his mouth.    
  
“I didn’t want you to hate me,” Alex admits.    
  
Mitch seems to soften against him. “I would never hate you. You’re supposed to tell me these things, Ace,” He murmurs before closing the gap between them. Alex remembers that night well - remembers Mitch’s lips slamming into his own, remembers Mitch’s fingers ripping his shirt open as they collapsed onto the bed. He remembers pressing himself inside Mitch, remembers his mouth falling open as he kissed it again and again, hand pushing back Mitch’s hair as he thrust into the Kiwi. He remembers how Mitch screamed his name that night. He thinks back to the hurt in Mitch’s eyes that day. Maybe this was payback.    
  
Things hadn’t been good this year for the pair of them. Alex has had to watch his teammate from last year go to a new team and completely dominate proceedings, to blow apart the competition. Mitch on the other hand, has left the comfort zone of Russian Time but it hasn’t paid off - Marciello is sitting in the car that used to be Mitch’s, sitting in the position that used to belong to Mitch. Alex never thought that Mitch would do this though, that he’d just up and leave, that he’d leave Alex behind. They were still close - in Barcelona, Mitch had grabbed him after the race, he’d dropped to his knees and took Alex’s cock in his mouth. Alex’s head had fallen against the wall as Mitch’s tongue had flicked over his dick, over his balls, mapping every inch. He’d wanted to stay in that moment forever, his hands fisted into Mitch’s dark hair. Mitch had hummed around Alex’s cock like a pro and Alex couldn’t hold back the moan that tore from his lips.    
  
But it doesn’t last. It never seems to last with Mitch. He always aspires for more, has never been content with what he has. They don’t really speak about the season that rattles on, carrying both of them with it. The races seem to sink into one another as Alex watches Mitch become closer and closer to Sean and to Antonio - he isn’t jealous, not at all - he just flicks through the snapchats and the Instagram photos of them all curled up together and pretends he’s okay with it. Mitch always comes back to him. He comes back covered in heavy cologne and bags under his eyes, but he always comes back, sinking into Alex’s sheets as though he had never left. Alex pretends it doesn’t hurt, pretends that it’s normal, that they are normal - but he watches Mitch curl up beside him, tries to pretend that they’re in a relationship, that Mitch hasn’t been out all night. They fuck later that morning, twisted in the sheets. Alex finds himself looking down at Mitch, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and smiles. Their lips find each other and they kiss lazily, wrapped up amongst the sticky sheets. Alex starts to believe that maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Mitch will stay. They both get phone calls from Jaguar, they both go down for testing at Donington. It’s pleasant enough - the sun is warm against Alex’s face and the car is beautiful. But it’s not the same. It doesn’t make the same roar that Alex coaxes from his DAMS, there’s no smell of petrol hanging in the air. It’s a strange experience for him - he’s not sure if he likes it - he’s down on the leaderboard but he expected that as a new team. It’s different. It has a certain seriousness, a certain grown up quality to it that GP2 seems to lack. Mitch however, seems to thrive in the new car. He doesn’t miss the roar of the engine, doesn’t miss the call of Formula One. Alex thinks about Mitch’s prospects, thinks about the time he came home from a meeting with Manor with red rimmed eyes and he knows, he knows how much Mitch wants this. Formula One is never going to happen for him, he has to look to the future. Alex buries his head in the sand over the next few days - he gets into the car himself, he puts everything into it - but it’s still not enough. It’s not what he wants and he knows that.  
  
His phone is silent on the day Mitch takes the call. He leaves the room with a small smile pressed on his lips, but Alex already knows what is coming. Mitch seems to be on the phone for ages, Alex still frozen on the couch, listening to his soft tones in the kitchen.   
  
“Jaguar want me,” Mitch says, slowly. It all falls back to that moment. Mitch stares at him expectedly, willing him to say something, anything.    
  
“That’s great,” Alex says, but the words feel forced, they feel fake. They stick to his tongue as he glances at Mitch. He hates feeling this way, hates the flash of hurt in the dark brown eyes.   
  
“You’re not happy about this are you?” Mitch says softly, biting his lip. “Look, I-”   
  
“Of course I am, I just-”   
  
“Then what is it?” Mitch presses harder, eyes burning darker.    
  
Alex doesn’t finish, he just slams their lips together, presses everything into the kiss. Mitch’s lips are warm and chapped against his own, he can smell the obnoxious cologne that the Kiwi has taken to using, it sinks into his nostrils. Mitch whines underneath him, groans as Alex’s fingers ghost through his hair and tug on it. Alex’s cock swells against his jeans as he grinds into Mitch, their lips still colliding together. Alex could stay in this moment, as his hands find the edge of Mitch’s trousers. The Kiwi’s breath ghosts into his mouth as Alex’s hand dips below his trousers, the thin stripe of skin exposed to the cooling autumn air. Alex’s hand curves over Mitch’s cock as they kiss, as he wonders if it’ll be the last time they will do this. It can’t be over. It can’t be the last time they do this - he thinks as his hair catches on Mitch’s hair as they kiss, as they push into each other. Mitch smiles against his lips as his fingers find his t-shirt. Alex gasps as Mitch manages to pull the t-shirt over his head, their lips finding one another again.   
  
“Oh god, Alex,” Mitch mutters against his mouth as they shed their clothes, shed the layers of themselves, shed the armour between them.  
  
Alex’s eyes rove over Mitch’s body before his hands take over, mapping over every inch of the warm skin. They fall against each other, their lips tangling together as they kiss frantically, as Alex fights to pepper the bronzed skin with kisses. Alex tries not to think about how good Mitch feels against him, his cock swells further against the Kiwi as their lips slide over one another, the salty sweat dancing over Alex’s tongue. They map each other’s bodies in the moments that follow, Alex’s hands stroking every inch, fingers dancing over every freckle on the tanned skin. It doesn’t take long before Alex’s cock finds Mitch’s ass, the smile spreading over his face as he watches the Kiwi’s mouth fall open. Mitch shifts up against Alex, groaning as his cock slides further inside him, ghosting over his prostate. He stiffens at the sensation, his fingernails curving over Alex’s back, leaving red marks on the pale skin.   
  
“Fuck, Ace, I missed you,” He whispers as he leans into Alex’s touch, his head falling back against the sheets.    
  
Alex thinks of all the times they’ve done this before, wonders if they’ll ever do it again. It hurts thinking that he’d never see Mitch like this - so open, so willing, so ready for him - he’s always managed to draw a certain gasp from the Kiwi. Mitch has already told him that he’s the best fuck he’s ever had - Alex doesn’t know whether to take that as a compliment - he knows that Mitch has been around the block, but none of that matters now, none of that matters now that he’s pressing Mitch against the sheets as they kiss, his cock thrusting inside the slighter man. Mitch groans out again, the sweat shining over his forehead as Alex twists against him. His fingernails dig deeper. They hurt, they ache, they rip Alex apart, rip the mask away. All that remains is the pair of them wrapped together, gazing at each other as Alex’s cock pushes deeper into Mitch, drawing another groan from the Kiwi. Mitch’s teeth catch on his lip as the two tangle together. Alex feels the smile curve over his lips as he watches Mitch lose control. It seems worth it in the end.   
  
They lay afterwards, tangled up in the sheets. Mitch is subdued, a small smirk curving on his face like the cat that got the cream. Alex tugs him closer, presses a kiss against his sweaty temple, marvelling at how well their bodies fit together, how they’ve always fitted together. They’ve always seemed right - Alex thinks as he lazily tangles their hands together - and he doesn’t want to let go of Mitch.    
  
“Is that what you were worried about?” Mitch murmurs thickly from Alex’s shoulder.    
  
Alex realises he’s been thinking loud and feels the blush dance over his cheeks. “I-”   
  
“You know nothing is going to change, right? I’m still racing,” Mitch says softly.    
  
“But we won’t be together,” Alex replies. “I’m scared things will change,”   
  
“Of course they’re going to change, Ace,” Mitch says, brushing a lock of dark hair from Alex’s forehead. “We can’t stay in GP2 forever, we have to spread our wings and do something else, doesn’t mean that I don’t love you anymore,”   
  
“I- I just feel like we’re going to split up, to go our separate ways,” Alex feels the words mesh together on his tongue, cheeks still burning. “I feel like you’ve got your thing in Formula E and you’re going to forget about me,”   
  
“I would never,” Mitch whispers, his hand rubbing over Alex’s cheek. “Look, I know I don’t act like it half of the time but I really do love you and I’m scared myself, I’m scared what’s going to happen but I want this, I want  _ you _ ,”   
  
And Alex believes him. They lay together, still tangled under the sweaty sheets. They don’t think of the moment, they don’t think about the future and what it holds. They’re both content in that moment to continue lying curled up around each other. Their eyes meet - brown locks on brown, a smile ghost over Mitch’s hand as he squeezes Alex’s fingers tighter. It’s all they need for now. 


End file.
